Skyrim: In His Court
by royal-tarts
Summary: Fort Dawnguard harbors anyone who seeks to rid the world of vampires. When Isran instructs out hero they leave to go find new recruits and returns tired and exhausted; from what? They go to take a bath and enters into a dream that will begin a journey that will define their lives forever.
1. Harsh Dreams

Castle Volkihar loomed in the distance dark and mysterious it drew in any traveler who dared come across its ginormous gargantuan beauty. From the architect to the unknown inhabitants that may still lurk the halls, it was older than Talos himself maybe even more. The castle was glorious and beautiful. However, though a heavy mind was set on seeing it one mind could only dream of it as she rested herself up in Fort Dawnguard.

Deep within the crumbling ruins of what used to be a fine order, there was a tiny yet strong Breton girl. One look at her would make any creature or mortal believe she was weak; once her weapon wielded she was unstoppable. As if her mind was mentally linked with the weapon in her hand, the Wuuthrad, then nothing could get in her way. The power she withheld was only the icing on the cake, the Breton held more power the more into the layers you got; there was more than one layer.

However, the Breton did not come all this way to think of her and the masculine advantages she has hidden underneath her tiny frame. No, the Breton came to bring an end to the vampire invasion that she has noticed all over Skyrim recently and enough was enough.

Roaming the halls of Fort Dawnguard the Breton jumped as a deep dark voice called her from the far end of the hall. It was Isran, the new found leader of the Fort Dawnguard; the fearless vampire hunters. He walked with power, body posture warning anyone who dared get in his way. As he finally reached her even his bravery seemed to send out an aura from him, his masculine body seemed almost too cramped up in that armor of his; in her head it begged to be free.

"Isran what a surprise," she cooed putting her hands behind her back she batted her eye lashes at him.

The big, strong, burley Redguard did not even hesitate at her flirtatious behaviors. Instead he gestured at her to follow him as he led the girl to the catwalk looking over the main hall of the Fort.

"You are aware of the rise in vampire attacks correct?" Isran asked the girl, "Are you listening to me? Iida!" The Redguard shouted shoving her slightly. The Breton looked over at him with tired eyes, however, curtsied in response to him.

"Of course, Isran, please continue."

At first he seemed hesitant to continue seeing that she was tired, instead he stopped where he was and leaned on the cast iron railings, deep in thought.

"A rise in vampire attacks from each Hold and the surrounding Reach's, we are outnumbered here," he began getting a glance of her beautifully structured face, "We need more people to dedicate to our cause."

"So you are asking me to go out and find some recruits, is that it?" Iida asked sliding to stand closer to him.

"It seems we have no other options, you have been around the Holds and Reach's have you not?" Isran asked standing to look at her, more or less, look down at the tiny Breton girl.

"I know my way around well-structured settlement," the girl teased in a half sarcastic manner.

"Good to hear, now, I am asking you to go around and ask some people, maybe some with a link to vampires and ask them if they would like to join our cause," the Redguard said as he put a heavy hand on the young Breton's shoulder, "The more we get the more we have a chance of finally riding ourselves of these things."

The Breton looked up into his dull grey eyes, they seemed to tell the story of a man who worked too hard to get where he finally wanted to be. All she did was smile as the girl got close to him putting her one hand on his chest and the other touched his face.

"I'll see to it, immediately," Iida said seductively before she pulled herself away and began to head back the way they had come disappearing around a corner.

The stoic Redguard never once moved or made any sound of protest as Iida got up into his space and seemed to what have been acts of seduction. Isran was a man who had no weaknesses he was not going to have some woman, a Breton, get in the way of his goal of riding all of Tamriel of vampires. However, though he saw even sleeping as a sign of weakness he'll find himself fast asleep on a bed hidden way; makes people think that he's studying or practicing his aim.

The hours had passed as Isran awaited the return for the tiny Breton girl. However, more and more people came to Fort Dawnguard to aid in the spree to rid Tamriel of vampires. From Nords to Khajitt's, Redguard's to High Elves, more and more arrived in one person intervals over the course of an hour. He was impressed by her way of persuading people to do her biddings and maybe due as she says; she was a Queen instructing her loyal servants.

Moreover, a harsh snow storm began to blow in. The wind howled mercilessly, the snow berated the old concrete bricks of the Fort. It began to grow cold, so cold in fact that Isran rushed to the main hall to secure the door, making sure that no harsh cold could come through.

In the back of his head he knew that Iida was not back and once the door shut it would not be reopened again till the storm clears. Moreover, the Redguard went to attend to the new comers and showed them to the dining hall to eat and drink; instead of instructing them he wanted them fed and alert when he did.

As the night progressed and all the new members of Fort Dawnguard slept in their courters, Isran was wide awake at a table a stern look on his handsome face. A map lay before him with tiny pegs sticking out; he was planning attacks on certain places where vampire attacks had been reported. Even the adrenaline and the auxiliary feeling of planning vampire attacks could not keep his mind off of where the young Breton girl had gone and if she was still alive. She was a reliable member of Fort Dawnguard.

Isran felt his grey eyes grow heavy sleep ate away at him like a ravenous disease. Though he was tired he still stayed awake trying to plan the attacks, thorough, stealth fully, and try to surprise the enemy the best they could. As all his attention went to the plans before him he never heard the sound of light footsteps coming up behind him.

Whoever it was they carried stealth and the ability to remain quiet even in a large place like this where if you were to drop a needle it would echo louder than a dragon's roar. The soft breaths escaped the being in which it intertwined in with the wind's harsh howls. Moving like a ghost the being walked across the floor as if their feet never once touched the ground, like walking on air they were swift and gifted in the art of stealth.

Although Isran seemed rather busy with his plans he did hear the faintest sound of a show lightly dragging across the bare concrete floor. After many years of training the Redguard practiced himself to hear the tiniest of noises; since vampires are most times quiet and subtle that one would have to listen closely when pursuing one.

The Redguard wielded a tiny dagger that he had hidden away on his belt, gripping the handle in his large masculine hand he drowned out the sound of the wind, the crackling fire and especially his own breathing to just hear the sound.

In a matter of seconds the two beings had daggers at each other's throats. The Redguard gazed into the smoldering green eyes of the young Breton, they seemed lost and tired. Removing the blade in unison to her they looked at each other for a few moments longer. Instead of her usual dress she was wearing typical leather armor; however they were covered in blood. He lifted his gaze to look at her face, it was flushed and tired. Before he could speak she raised a finger and brought it to his lips.

"I am fine," she rasped before clearing her throat pounding a fist to her chest, "I am going to take a bath, if you care to find me then that is where I shall be." And with that said she left him there to work on his battle plans.

The bath water was hot not one degree over or under, it was hot and that was how Iida liked it. Steam danced off the surface of the murky water inside of the wooden bathtub. The bath water lapped as the young Breton slowly climbed inside, her legs grew warm in an instant and soon her body followed as she lowered herself into the hot water. The small room began to fill up with steam; all of the girl's airways began to clear out as she slowly fell deeper into the water.

As the hot water ran through her it started to put her to sleep like a drug, sedating her to a deep sleep that soon made a vision of black. Sleep had taken over and it showed no remorse.

A white veil had appeared before her, a woman clashed in white over looked a valley of hundreds, thousands of dead fallen soldiers who some remained alive crawling over in agony of their comrades.

Iida didn't know how to react. The smell grew unbearable. It climbed inside of her nose eating away at it like cannibals to a human. The woman dressed in white walked over the bodies with no shoes, the blood and guts oozing from between her perfectly straight toes. Iida felt vomit crawl into her throat. Unable to contain it she twisted and vomited on the red grass, blood stained it.

_Where am I?_

Soon the whole place began to shake violently, the way it shook made her head hurt so bad that it felt like her eyes were going to push right out of her skull. Gripping the sides of her throbbing head, her hair coming through her fingers, the pain coursed through like a current. No matter how loud the young Breton screamed she could not hear it.

However, as soon as everything started and what minutes went by that had felt like hours everything stopped.

Iida was paralyzed by a force, holding all limbs and body parts in place. There alone and afraid the woman in white came before her. The woman's seemingly young face got up into hers; they starred into each other's eyes as if they were having a psychic showdown with each other. The stare down seemed rather relaxing like a hug from a mother, warm, comforting and loving.

However, the Breton's feisty nature only grew the more time she thought she was wasting. "I don't have time for this!" She screamed finding it hard to refrain from pushing her away, "I need to wake up!"

Before there was any time to react the woman suddenly jerked her head back and screamed in agony, her screams emitting from deep from within her throat. Iida watched in horror as the woman fell to her knees, a blade along with pieces of her flesh stuck out from her front. The young Breton screamed as a hand rose from the woman's mouth, blood pouring from either side like a broken faucet, spewing and spraying everywhere.

As Iida screamed the woman turned to her, the woman's hollow black eyes on her as if they stabbed her with an invisible knife with such force it brought the girl to her knees.

"_Find the place where History Stops, Darkness Falls, and the betrayed once dwelled."_

Once the words were spoken the hand retreated back into the woman's body as she screamed in agony, the hand messing with her inside, tearing them up and moving them out of place. The young girl only started to sob as she watched the woman scream and yell in agony.

Right before the woman fell to the ground, rasping her final breaths she grabbed Iida's legs with such force it made her fall over. The woman sobbed as she crawled on the young girl, her bloody tears falling on her white dress and Iida's Dawnguard armor. The Breton's breathe quickened in a state of panic as she used all her force to push the woman away.

In a matter of frightening seconds the woman clashed in a bloody mess of fabric and blood, brought the red wet face up to Iida's, blood dripped down to the girl's pretty face.

As if time had slowed the woman's face came close to the young girl's the distinct marks on her face being outlined by blood. The old woman's mouth opened and slowly the bloodied hand covered in pieces of the flesh and blood. It slowly came out before the wet slimy fingers lashed out and drove into Iida's mouth.

The metallic taste of blood and the feeling of herself choking made the young Breton shot up and scream from inside the bathroom. It felt like she could not breath, the sudden burst of quickened heart rate and fear coursed through her like an unforgiving sea during a violent storm.

Soon everything in her eyesight turned into a massive blur. Fading colors churning and swirling like a majestic dance between them, lovers in courtship. However, out a midst of the blurry, hazy vision a form began to appear before the young Breton. It was hard to make out the lines was nothing more than ripples like the soft disturbance of a peaceful pond. The blur never moved and yet it seemed to have been breathing, the soft sound of its breathy sounds only remained for a second before it faded off into nothing.

In a matter of seconds of the blur dispersing and Iida regaining her ability to breath, she pulled herself out of the bathtub with whatever she could call energy and fell to the floor. Within a matter of moments everything went black.


	2. Running Scared

_4E 29__th__ of Sun's Dusk_

"_The darkness continues to surround me, like an impending death it shall and possible will swallow me whole. As if these walls were to cave in around me, my final breaths are to be stained forever in history in this journal. My ink well is running dry; my quill no longer carries on these words so graceful like and fluent. The quill is nothing more than an end to my words; this quill will end my thoughts soon. _

_ "I risk losing myself and the secrecy I hold if I were to travel outside once more and get supplies. The barrel that once held enough food runs dry like bones, the crate that stored water and wine started to become quenched with thirst. Last time I left I had barely enough gold to buy some beef and alto wine. That soon faded as the time went by. _

_ "I grow weary, depressed and fatigued the more I stay here. I pray and pray, yet, the words I send forth to my beloved God sound empty and hallow. The tears fall down my cheeks like little trickles of rain, flooding my face with water like a storm. The pain knowing at any time my end is near and the constant thought that the light that shines in my life will soon vanish like a flame on a candle. _

_ "I am tired. Sleep awaits me like a blushing bride; this shall be my last entry. My inkwell is running low and for my last words are… to whomever finds this journal my name is Gelebor, sentinel and Knight-Paladin at the Chantry of Auri-El and __this is __my__ fin__al__r__esting__pla__ce…"_

It was cold. Shivering, isolated and alone hidden underneath a large looming spruce tree was a tiny, young and cold Breton girl who had just escaped her death sentence. Even though the cold was getting the better of her, the thin tunic she was forced in was barely enough to hide her delicate skin from the harsh winter storm that brewed. Dog's howled like the wind, horse's hooves stomped on the cold hard ground with such force, voices whispered and talked of finding her, the young Breton could feel the vibrations under her thigh as she lay on the ground.

The harsh cold wind began to get the better of her as she lifted her tired legs and began to run once again. Deep cold snow ate away at her feet that were wrapped up in thin leather tied together by rope. The cold ate away at her like a spreading disease, gnawing and tearing away at any exposed skin it could find. The tunic was thin, held at the waist was a tight piece of rope that dangled behind the girls legs, tickling them.

Her throat began to ache. Breathing in all that cold air began to freeze her airways causing breathing to quicken and less air flow no matter how hard she breathed; she had to in order to keep running. They were behind her, inching in closer and closer and if they caught up to her they might catch her and kill the girl right on the spot.

Hours have passed. Not knowing what time it was, the girl knew it was late but was it still the evening or was it the cold wet early Skyrim mornings that were as harsh as a dragon's roar.

The horses and dogs became silent, they're constant sounds fixated inside of the young girl's ears that she thought they were still behind her, searching and waiting to strike like a common snake. In panic of them capturing her once again and ending her life right there in some unknown part of Skyrim, mysterious in the shrouded cloud of snow and night; this is not how the Breton planned on dying.

A sound began to flutter in the young girl's frost bitten ears. It was a fire, though it sounded rather small or far off it could only mean that warmth and possibly some food was nearby. Was she saved?

The closer the young Breton crept to the camp the clearer it became that they were not saviors to her tiring journey. They were bandits. A camp covered in tossed aside useless things that were not going to sell for good coin and the valuable ones were in their hands, they looked at them greedily.

"Oh, Talos…" she breathed hidden behind a tree watching them. Her fingers and toes were numb; her face was flushed pure red as a ruby and the girl's body felt cold and numb. Although she was cold she watched like a predator watching its prey. A plan formulated inside of that brain of hers, every strike every move she was going to make. Like a wild animal instinct kicked in and all targets were acquired.

Next to one of the bandits, whom were bundled up against the deathly cold harshness of Skyrim, was a sword. Most likely steel, not well smithed and flimsy, however, anything was better than the girl's bare numb hands.

As if one with the shadows the Breton crept close to the camp keeping her breaths so silent it sounded like she was using whatever her lungs kept stored away. The only thing that could be heard was the quickening beat of the girl's heart. Rising and falling the moon and the stars, intertwining in with the velvet black sky hidden underneath a sheer blanket of clouds.

_Beat-Beat-Beat._

Going off like the drums of war calling forth soldiers to die for whatever it is that they believe in. Feet pounding across the frozen landscape of Skyrim raising their swords in hands to someday retire to an inn and raise their mugs in songs of their bravery.

None of the bandits were watching, closer inspection would have suggested that they were Redguards. The Breton should have known at first glimpse at the fabric they had wrapped around their heads and the curvature of their swords but she was too busy with other things.

"I really hate bees," the Redguard next to the sword said.

The Breton had her hand not even two inches away from the handle when her hand stopped and she glanced up, making a face at him. Bandits always said the weirdest things.

Rising like a bird she appeared from behind the man. His companions saw her before he and right before they could warn their companion, with one swipe the man became still. Slowly blood poured from the cut on his neck, drenching the layers of fabric on the Redguard. Then the girl pushed him forward and stepped onto the bench the breathing man once sat.

"May Talos guide you to Sovngarde," she said to the Redguards with a wicked smile.

The men took no more time to draw their swords and charge at the young girl. Standing her ground she felt like she had the upper hand, as she dashed towards them. With a wicked grin the two both brought their curved swords over their heads before the young Breton suddenly fell to her back. The two bandits were dumfounded but fell to the ground in pain as the girl had slashed their legs with the sword that now shimmered in blood.

"_Ahh, _you wench," one shouted at her before he let out a hollow scream as the sword broke through his sternum, the girl's face was blank as the small shadows of flames danced on her face. The sight of the blood soaking through his clothes got her excited.

"The handsome ones always die quicker," she spat with a sly smile.

The other Redguard was still, the girl stood over him checking that he was dead. He must have fallen on his sword. Scoffing at the two dead bodies she sniffled and looked around, three tents, cart, horse and a large cage circled around the burning fire. The camp was filthy. Debris of either the remains of dead animal carcasses or whatever type of garbage these Redguards had thrown around.

"Oh yuck…" the girl pouted as she lifted a piece of deer skin with a piece of meat dangling from the trimmings of fat and fur. Dropping it back on the ground, being cold she felt no hunger. Leaving the ugly remains of the camp she walked to one of the tents which happened to be the largest. With a sweet sound of astonishment and warmth she walked in a circle admiring the tent.

Inside were the many wondrous and beautiful things that pertained to Redguard culture; by far it was a truly beautiful sight. There was a table decorated with gold coins, fine jewelry from gold to silver, books, journals and a map. Curious the girl approached the table before something on the floor caught her eye, it was a coat made out of fur. Not caring she slipped the coat on and brought the collar to her nose and rubbed into it; the feeling of warmth made her tired. However, as she hovered over the table with her palms resting on the wooden surface she turned her mouth to the side as her eyes drifted over the map.

"Hm, they are from Dragonstar," she said softly as there was a line leading from Dragonstar to Markarth. However, the girl never believed that she was even close to Markarth; she thought she was maybe closer to Dragon's Bridge. Rolling her eyes she wandered over to the bed near the back of the tent where a pair of leather boots, though they were dirty, she wanted something to wear other than these foot wraps.

Out in the cold the Redguard slowly rise from his stone like state. He thought it was idiotic of her that she never checked his pulse, only stood over him and listened for him to breathe. With a smirk he could see her inside of the tent, playing around with the table that had been holding onto their records and sales. Like a snake ready to strike he waited for her back to turn as he slowly moved forward with a sword in his hand.

"Oh, that is nice," the girl smiled as she lifted her leg and admired how her legs looked in the leather boots. Then the girl repeated the same process with the other leg and smiled at the warm sensation she felt.

"Gotcha'" the man said.

In a moment the girl twirled as a high pitched gasp escaped her, grabbing whoever was there, but it was too late. The man hit her in the head with the handle of his sword. Slowly she felt to the ground in a state of dizziness and nausea. However, she raised her arms as the man came back down grabbing a fistful of her brown hair and made a fist with the opposite hand; he punched her.

The pain swallowed up the young girl like a carnivore. It surged through her brain as fast as a river; currents pulled and tugged anything that fell in. Blackness soon enveloped her vision, covering everything in a dark shroud that soon disappeared.

"Wow, she put up a fight," the Redguard said panting from using all his energy into punching her. He rubbed his throbbing knuckles as he starred down at the unconscious Breton before him. Tilting his head he smirked and a devilish smile came across his face.

"She'll sell for a high price."


	3. Conquered

The room was spinning. In twirls of blackness and shades of grey everything spun like a spider in its web, creating an erotic dance to capture prey. Everything soon meshed together, it was a nauseating sight. The feeling of vomiting was eminent. However, before she followed through with her stomach's orders she rolled over, getting on her hands and knees leaning back on her shins.

The weary girl released whatever was inside her, gagging and coughing from the feeling as some of it ran out from her nose burning it like a roaring fire. Voices filled in the silent void, sounded like there was many people speaking all in hushed whispers all at once. They soon morphed into silence as a loud creak echoed throughout the enclosure.

"Well, someone is working off the poison," a feminine voice said.

Lifting her throbbing head the girl looked up to see a small woman leaning against a door, she too was wearing a tunic and foot wraps, a tail protruding from her backside; an Argonian. Purple scales decorated her elderly face as claws that looked dull and lifeless as if she had not used her hands in a great while. The elderly Argonian also appeared to be near anorexic, her bones were easily protruding from the thin tunic that was held by a rope; looked like it could have fallen right off of her.

"Poi-" the Breton began to cough again, her head throbbed violently like a battle raging war inside of her head, "Poison what?"

The young girl began to cough and gag once again as vomit rose in her throat like a rushing river. However, right before she could vomit the elderly Argonian rushed to her and held up her face. "Eat this."

Suddenly she shoved her scaly fingers into her mouth leaving behind a leafy object at the back of her tongue; it was sweet and tasted like fresh mint. Although in her mind she believed that is was going to stop her from vomiting, suddenly, she spewed out a green liquid that still ran down her nose some.

"Sorry, it won't stop you from vomiting but it will keep it from burning," the Argonian told her as she bent forward to help pull her up. For a woman who was old and frail she had the grip of a true Nord.

"Whe-" the Breton began as she suddenly felt light headed as she stood up quickly.

"_Shhh, _quiet, your body is trying to get rid of the poison; you need to take it easy," the Argonian said motherly holding the girl by the arm and pushing her softly by her back, "Here, sit."

The Breton took no time to fight with her when she would have, claiming that she was fine. Sitting on the hard bed made from straw and wood she was pushed to lie on her back. The sudden feeling of her head ache leaving was enjoyable taking in a big sigh of relief as she relaxed against the hard bed.

"The slavers here fill you with poison, paralyses poison, so you don't start a fight if you wake up in the back of their cage, a little startling to wake up in a cage, right?" the Argonian snickered to herself.

"Where am I?" the girl finally asked suddenly ignoring what she had said about the poison.

"Well," the Argonian woman began as she sat down at the foot of the bed looking away from her a sudden sadness coming across her sickly complexion, "You're in jail."

"I'm in, gaol?" the young Breton asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, in jail, and not just any jail, but in a Slavers Prison."

With those words spoken the Breton sat up despite her headache and nausea, glaring at the anorexic Argonian. All that she had said did not sound right but it did add up. Back at the Redguard camp they had a map that marked up to Markarth and then stopped; they were capturing people along the trail and also again with the cage; they were locking slaves up inside.

The Breton brought her knees to her chest, for the first time in a long while she felt scared. It was inside of her like a dormant animal rising from its long sleep after years of hibernation. The fear soon roared with satisfaction after its long anticipated awake was finally happening. The girl felt like throwing up, that's how scared she was.

"Hey there," the elderly Argonian rasped as she scooted closer to the whimpering girl, "It'll be okay."

The Argonian wrapped a slender arm around the girl with comfort, like a mother to a child. "So tell me," she said softly, "What's your name?"

Lifting up her head she looked into the Argonian's eyes, they looked lost and afraid and yet calm. "My, my name is Iida, Iida Lorac'h."

"Iida, that's a pretty name and, I've never heard that type of name before."

"It's a mix between Altmer and Manmeri."

The Argonian nodded at her with a warm smile. "My name is Nani, Nani Many Water."

Iida nodded at Nani with a smile as she slowly let her legs dangle over the side of the bed, her headache began to slowly subside. Although she was sluggish and exhausted the girl still did not want to fall asleep in this place, frightened at the thought of what might happen to her as she slept.

Getting up from the bed Iida paced the room like a caged animal trying to put all the pieces together like if it were a game of chess.

"So I'm a slave?" Iida suddenly asked as her brain began to force her to speak.

"Yes," Nani answered her with a hand gesture watching her.

The girl stopped and scoffed in annoyance to what she told her. "Well, maybe Daenerys will save us with her Dragon."

"What was that, Dragon?' The Argonian asked in a state of shock.

"Nothing," she waved at her, "Just… thinking out loud."

Once again the Breton began to pace thinking of a way she could escape; however, from how she was raised she couldn't seem to stop telling herself to just let it go. Maybe she should just stay submissive and be sold or treated like a salve. No. Iida Lorac'h was better than that; she will never bow down to another man unless she was the one who instructed him to do so. Moreover, as the Breton began to think of this a new plan formulated inside of that brain of hers, it was a good plan and she liked it. Although, to not risk her safety she would have to keep it to herself not a single stranger, even Nani, could be trusted in this moment.

"So this is my fate that Talos himself has given me?" she asked out loud, merely talking to herself, "To be a man's slave and refer to him as master for the rest of my life?"

The Argonian closed her eyes thinking of how sad it was that Iida was already accepting this life, she was hoping she would at least try and fight back. "Yes, this is your fate, no one has escaped the Redguard slavers, or as they call themselves the Esir Company, before." The Argonian frowned thinking of how long she has been purchased and sold on and off again.

"No, Nani," Iida whispered before getting down on her knees and rested her hands onto the elderly woman's knee, "I am only pretending to be giving up my fate, I will fight back, this is not how I planned to live my life."

Nani let a sweet sound escape her as she raised a boney hand up to her chest looking like she was about to cry. However, before Nani could speak the door flew open as three Redguards dressed in their many fabrics and head wraps walked in. They had their eyes fixated onto the two women, however, Iida felt like most of the eyes were on her.

"What do you towel-heads want?" the young Breton asked with a near hiss in her voice.

The three squinted at her but at first did nothing as one closed the cell door behind them. The Argonian woman just sat their motionless, knowing all too well what they were going to do to her new friend. She got up and quickly walked over to the far side of the cell and starred at the wall before slowly moving to sit down, a soft sniffle escaped her.

The four all glared at each other as if waiting like a predator ready to strike. Suddenly the one Redguard, who had a scar over his lips, grabbed hold of Iida and forced her against him, he was holding her tight in his grip.

"We are here to see if you're not broken," he said with a sly grin, the other two snickered.

In a moment the Redguard threw the girl onto the bed, on her stomach, before the girl could even react the man grabbed hold of her wrists and tied them together with a rope. "So you can't get away," he snickered before he pulled at his pants.

The Redguard put a strong hold onto her hips smirking down at her. Iida started to slightly sob, she was trying to jerk free but the man's rope work was good and the knot he placed her hands in was beyond her technique. Tears came from her large eyes as she buried her face into the straw mattress, waiting for whatever was to happen to commence. Slowly he leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "Slave." And with no warning he thrusted forward causing the Breton to nearly scream out of the shock and pleasure. The Redguard could only smirk down at her.

Nani sat starring at the wall, hearing all the noises happening behind her. This has happened before, both to her and the newcomers whom share a cell with the old Argonian. They were merely showing their dominance to the new prisoners, branding them if you will. It was the slavers way of telling their prisoners that they are nothing but garbage now and that they are to be treated this way and have to know it. The Argonian quickly looked over her shoulder to see the Redguard flip Iida over on her back and hold her legs at his hips, she looked away again.

An hour had passed when the Redguard was standing their pulling up his pants, sweat ran down his face but a smile still held on it. He smiled down at the delirious girl he had place lengthwise on the bed, her hands still bound behind her. The man reached over and cut the knot with a dagger, as soon as her hands were free the girl curled up into a ball covering her face. It made the three Redguards laugh in arrogance.

"Well, Nazir, is she worth the high price Aloso spoke of?" the one spoke gesturing at her.

Nazir, the one with the scar, looked back at her wishing he could keep the Breton beauty for himself, however, that would be against the rules. "Yes, for how it was she will sell for a high price, say, 3000 gold," he suggested with such a tone that it sounded unheard of.

The other two looked at each other. "We have never sold a slave for that high a price…" their voices trailed off as they left the cell.

Nani wasted no time to rush to the Breton's side as she kneeled beside the bed. "Iida, Iida… I'm sorry…" she said trying not to sound like she was about to cry.

"Yeah…?" Iida cried through her hands, "No duh, now leave me alone." The Breton pushed herself up against the wall as if she was going to merge right into it and disappear forever; that's what she wanted to do. She had never been raped before, it was a frightening experience and Nani just sat there starring at the wall not helping her. Although, how could she? She was nothing more than skin and bones. However, Iida didn't think of it in that way, she had been violated and now that she was a slave a sudden dread came over her that maybe her plan would fail and she was to be a slave forever.

"Iida," the elderly woman sighed as she slowly sat back onto her rear, "I couldn't help you, even if I did how could I?" She touched the girl's back, "Remember what you said, that you will not give into them and fight back, fight back!"

Iida furrowed her brow suddenly feeling angered by her words, not at Nani by the Redguards. "Your right," she said turning to her, "I am not some slave or a prize to be purchased." Though her lower abdomen pained she sat up., "I am Iida Lorac'h and I am in charge of my life and what I do, no one else."

The sun was shining bright the following day; birds sang their joyous songs as their wings carried them to freedom. The young Breton, whose hands were bound by leather stripes, watched those feeling envies of their freedom. Today was the day, the day she was going to be sold to whoever had the wealth to purchase her.

After the proclaimed incident last night in her holding cell, the Redguards had left talking about selling her at a high price and that no slave had been sold at such a price. It pained her to think that they were just nonchalantly throwing out price ranged but happy that she was actually worth a high price. Even though the prices for each of the eight women they had in their cage, she was the priciest one out of them all.

"You don't seem frightened," a Nord woman said, "Aren't you terrified to be sold as a slave?"

Iida looked over at the timid young Nord who could be no older than fifteen, hair blonde and eyes blue, she only smiled at her softly. "You can't let fear overcome you here," she whispered, "Just let yourself know that you will not let whoever buys you to rule _your_ life."

With those words the Nord smiled and nodded hesitantly at her. "What's your name?"

"It's Iida, Iida Lorac'h."

"Well met, Iida, my name is Freki."

Right when the two girls began to bond one of the guards walking along the cage told them to be quiet, which was true why should they bond if they were to never see each other again most likely. However, it was nice to have a chat with someone other than the elderly Argonian who was way past her time. They left her behind, let her die in that cell she had seen and basically claimed as her home; she said she has been there for nearly twenty years; no one wants an Argonian slave.

Arriving into the town of Dragonstar, it became clear that this was a wealthy and prosperous settlement, the buildings were made out of brick and topped with fine stone, and the streets were lined with natural wild flowers bees danced amongst the petals. The sight of the city was quite beautiful; however, as they entered the gate the townspeople seemed to be a little weary.

Mother's instructed their children to go inside, shop keepers closed up their shops for they might have a chance of buying a slave to help them for their shop needs and for their other needs.

Iida looked around trying to see what was happening before the cage arrived to a large well in the middle of the city, it was large and a huge statue of a man holding a hand by the hair and a sword in the other, a war hero who had delivered the killing blow to the notorious enemy. Below that was a wooden stage were the same Redguards from the Esir Company, setting down a stone block to have the slaves stand upon to show them to the crowd that slowly grew by at least two men at a time, a few women amongst them.

It felt like a blanket of fear suddenly over took the Breton, she felt her breath quicken as well as her heartbeat, going crazy, erratic and wild as she instantly thought of being purchased by a sadistic man or not be sold and returned back to the lustful Redguard slavers. The girl intertwined her fingers together and formed a giant fist with her two hands and brought them to her lips, kissing them softly as she prayed.

"_Oh mektige Talos, hør min bønn, ber jeg dere om å gi meg veiledning og hjelp i min time i mørket. Veilede meg ved ditt for alltid brennende lys. Måtte vi alle tjene deg. (_ _Oh mighty Talos, hear my prayer, I ask you to grant me guidance and aid in my hour of darkness. Guide me by your forever burning light. May we all serve you. )" _

The Nord woman heard her praying and scooted closer to her and followed her lead, together they began to hum, from within their throats as they prayed to Talos for his help.

In a moment the cage stopped, some of the woman already began to whimper, however since praying to Talos the Breton suddenly felt like the blanket had lifted. The woman all shuffled towards the back of the cage as the door swung open, already they could hear the men talking amongst each other about which ones look acceptable.

"Alright, all of you line up on the stage, you Dark Elf, you stand on the block first," one of the Redguard's instructed them as the women all walked towards the stage. The Breton eyed the crowd, her brain putting in many thoughts of which one of those men was going to purchase her; the thought made her legs feel like rubber. One of those men or possibly women was going to purchase her to either be a laborer or a pleasure maid, either one made the bile in her stomach rise.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a man shouted as he came running on stage wearing a purple coat and gold boots, dark skin and short hair. "Here we have our freshest slaves for the picking; some of them have been used so much they are not good for the pleasure factor." The man started to hump the air causing a roar of laughter rise from the crowd. "And then some are so valuable that they are good for labor, pleasure and even possible marriage possibilities. Our slaves here today have come all the way from Skyrim, home of the Nords. Now the first one up is a beautiful Dark Elf named… dear what is your name?"

The Dark Elf stood up on the block; her knees were shaking as she slowly opened her mouth, "Arian."

"Arian is a Dark Elf, she is quite tiny and fragile, not great for childbirth but she was a dock worker near Solitude in Skyrim, so she is a great worker. 800 Gold up front, however, from our resources she is not rather good in bed, her cries are quiet and she is nothing more than a doll and…"

"I'll take her!" A voice suddenly sounded from the crowd. A man walked up on stage, a Redguard who was built near his middle than the rest of him, blood stained the front of him; a butcher. The man in the purple coat with a greedy smile took hold of the butcher's leather poach and suddenly jumped. "SOLD!"

Now the seven women on stage all looked at each other of how fast they sold her, no negation nor was the gold even counted. They all looked back to the man in the purple coat as he tossed the bag of leather at one of the slavers and grabbed hold of Arian's arm and threw her at the butcher, he caught her and pulled her off the stage.

"_Murderer!_" Iida suddenly shouted at the butcher, "You're killing her freedom you useless piece of-"

The man in purple walked over to the Breton interrupting the girl and grabbed hold of her hair and practically dragged her towards the block forcing her to stand. He quickly pinched her thigh before standing in front of her.

"Now, our rare jewel, we could not _wait _to show her to you. This Breton rampaged into one of our camps and killed two of our slavers; she is no stranger with a sword. Then on top of that once she is in your grasp you can force your dominance upon her, her pleasure will explode in your ears. Resources claim that she is tighter than a greedy man's purse; her body is as crafted like she was Dibella herself and more with that she is the pretties of our slaves. She is pricey for these many reasons, we are asking 3000 gold for this gem."

Quickly there was uproar from the crowd, men waving and shouting saying they'll take her for 3000 to some who wanted to work it down to 2000 or lower. The man in purple smiled wickedly as he had offers left and right, the Breton caught glimpse of him.

"Oh wipe that smug look off your face, towel-head," she said down to him.

"I will once we get our buyer for you, I'd like to keep you but your too rowdy for me sweetheart," he glanced up to her pretty face before looking back.

Then he walked up on stage. He walked with power, body posture warning anyone who dared get in his way. As he finally reached her even his bravery seemed to send out an aura from him, his masculine body seemed almost too cramped up in that Fur-Trimmed Cloak of his. Blonde hair came down to the top of his shoulders; blue eyes pierced the girl as if stabbing right into her very soul. Fear settled over her again, the man was built like a sobre cat and had the glare of a dragon.

"I'll take her," his voice was low and the way his words came out he sounded like a true Nord.

The big burley man starred down at the purple coated man, he was puny compared to him. Instead the man reached into his satchel and took out three large bags filled with gold. "This is five thousand gold," he said reaching to grab the girl's arm.

Iida jerked towards hm nearly smacking into his chest as she hesitantly looking up at his face, he looked slightly aged maybe in his late thirties. His face showed off that he worked hard. The Breton looked away feeling frightened that the man was going to break her in half. Anxiety began to settle in her chest rising up and down feeling like she was going to throw up right there.

"Sold, to Ufrid Jargaldersson," the man in purple shouted as the crowd all booed feeling irritated that they did not get the Breton. Before Iida could say anything Ufrid jerked her towards the stairs and walked towards it.

"No, no…" Iida suddenly turned and tried to walk back on stage, just from what she saw of this Ufrid Jargaldersson she was assuming he was sadistic and abusive; the blanket of fear began to wrap itself over the young Breton. However, Ufrid lifted her up and hoisted her over his strong shoulder as he walked with his purchase home, people would stare at him but not dare say a word, an old war hero like that was favored by the current or any Diplomat of the city.

Iida could see nothing but the footprints he left behind in the dirt. The anticipation was slowly rising in her stomach, in her blood, essence and soul. It felt like she was to explode from the inside.

However, the girl felt herself jerk as he walked up some steps and entered into a house, as she lifted her head from what she could tell it wasn't a very large house but it was spacious. For a man his size he needed all the space he could get.

Suddenly Iida felt strong hands on her body before the man threw her down onto a soft bed made out of every possible animal fur. He took a dagger out from his belt, grabbing the girl's tiny wrist and cut the leather that bound them together. Once again he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, nearly dragging her to the mirror that faced out into the bedroom they were in. The large burley man placed her in front of the large mirror and began to undress her.

With large strong hands he pulled at the rope that was wrapped around the girl's shapely middle letting it drop to the floor, the he reached up her tunic and held her undergarments between his thumb and hand, beginning to slide them down. Iida grabbed hold of his arms and tried to stop him but his strength was no match for hers. She began to cry, tears ran down her face as he dropped them to the floor around her ankles. The Breton started to bend at her hip before he grabbed hold of her waist and made her stand straight, her face was wet with tears and his was stoic.

Ufrid took hold of the collar of her tunic and ripped it in two, letting her stand there with her hands covering her face as he exposed her backside. Standing back up he ran a large masculine up the dainty curves of her spine, her skin was soft like silk compared to his rough stone like complexion.

Standing up right behind the whimpering girl bringing his large hands up to the back of her neck and gripped the collar of the tunic she wore and ripped it. The tunic ripped easily in his grasp as he slowly directed the tear down the back before it revealed her backside. Not long the tunic fell down around her feet; the girl covered herself in embarrassment. The man just watched her feeling not one drop of regret or sympathy for what he was going to her. He had purchased her and now she was his to do with as he pleases. Since no woman here in Hammerfell would dare be with him, Ufrid had to go with drastic measures and purchased a wife; it was no different than finding one willingly.

"Look at me," he demanded. The burly man did not wait for her to obey him; he took hold of her jaw and forced her to look at them both in the mirror. Tears poured down her face like waterfalls, those large green orbs gleamed like emeralds. The Breton's eyes were red, swollen and puffy; they looked different from how they usually looked.

"This is your life now."

The words he spoke stained her ears like poison. All of this seemed to be going by so fast, though hours had been flying by. Ever since has passed out in Fort Dawnguard all these events had been happening. Iida's life changed drastically nearly as soon as it began.

Suddenly he grabbed her wrists, holding them tight in his large masculine hands that made her arms seem puny. He forced her arms behind her before spinning her around to face him, a stoic look upon his handsome features. He ran his hands along the dainty curves of her spine.

"You will worship my gods now," he whispered looking at her pretty little face as he sensually ran his fingers down her back and then gripped her rear, "I catch you praying or worshipping Talos I will beat you."

The girl's eyes went wide. Not worship Talos? She shook her head not knowing what she should say exactly, all she wanted to do was to cry because all of this seemed to be a dream; will she wake up soon?

In a moment he kissed her. Prying into her as his pants became tight rubbing his arousal against her hips. Sliding his tongue into her mouth teasing her, soft groans escaped the back of his throat the more he kept thinking of branding his purchase. Then he took his mouth away and gazed into her eyes bringing his hands to take a grip on her waist, squeezing it slightly.

"I am going to conquer you," he growled before suddenly lifting her and tossed her onto his bed roughly. The terrified Breton scrambled to grab hold of the fur blanket he had place upon the surprisingly soft bed. Holding it to cover herself she watched as he began to undress himself roughly, impatiently and harshly as he continued to stare at her with that piercing icy blue gaze. His eyes like that of a wolf watching his prey with such patience until it was ready to strike.

Ufrid climbed onto the bed wearing nothing more than his skin on his back, he acted swiftly and steady as if he was purposely trying not to frighten the girl. Grabbing the blanket he tore them away from her, grabbing hold of her leg and slides her onto her back. He lifted her legs by the back of his hands and leaned forward whispering into her ear.

"Conquer you like a true Nord with a beast."


End file.
